


i'll stop the world and melt with you

by thisdarkpassenger



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Discord Drabble, F/M, Mr & Mrs Smith AU, Oral Sex, harmony drabble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:41:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27296560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisdarkpassenger/pseuds/thisdarkpassenger
Summary: Hermione Granger is going to kill her husband.She wonders how it all came down to this.or the Mr & Mrs Smith AU you've always wanted.
Relationships: Hermione Granger & Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Harry Potter
Comments: 11
Kudos: 85
Collections: HMS Harmony Discord Drabbles





	i'll stop the world and melt with you

**Author's Note:**

> title is from the mr & mrs smith movie soundtrack

Hermione heads back into the house. She can tell herself there's more equipment, more guns, more ammo she needs there, but Hermione knows a lie when she hears one. Maybe it's just poetic, to end her five-year lie with Harry in the house that witnessed its entirety.

She pulls up to the house first, ´bursting through the garage and sprinting up the stairs. Towards the back of her closet behind her more formal articles of clothing (she ignores the white garment bag that holds her wedding dress) a loose panel is hanging. She pries it open, searching for the pistol that she has kept in case of emergencies. She loads the gun with what feels like finality, the click of the gun's safety like a death sentence ringing in her ears.

Hermione Granger is going to kill her husband.

She wonders how it all came down to this.

* * *

_Harry tastes like red wine._

_She tells Harry as much, murmuring against the warm skin under his ear and slipping her hands beneath the sheets. The hotel room is quiet, the dim light of the morning filtering through the curtains. It is not the worst thing in the world to wake up after a successful mission with a beautiful man in your bed._

_Not quite strangers. She'd learned Harry's name when he panted it into her ear. It was a late introduction followed by nails digging into Hermione's skin._

_"I think you're still drunk." Harry said flatly, but Hermione could see the amusement in his eyes and in the wry pull at the edges of his mouth. How strange, that he could so easily read a stranger, even one he'd spent the night with._

_It's electrifying._

_"Maybe." Hermione shrugged, grinning at the way Harry's eyes almost unconsciously dropped to her breasts. "It's not the worst thing to be, at 10 in the morning."_

_"You will be singing a different tune in a few hours, I assure you." Harry said, the clipped syllables of his accent softening a little._

_"Planning on sticking around?" Hermione asked, before she could stop herself. There was just something about Harry that made her want to keep reaching out despite her better judgment._

_Harry looked at her carefully. "What did you have in mind?" he asked. Hermione smiled._

_"Well," She drawled, slipping a leg over Harry's hip and settling her weight across Harry's thighs. "I was thinking…" She ducked her head low to press her lips against the skin of Harry's clavicle, scraping her teeth across the marks she'd left the night before._

_"Yes?" Harry held the last syllable between his lips, hissing with pleasure at the feeling of Hermione's mouth. His fingers dug into the curve of Hermione's waist, digging in with every swipe of Hermione's tongue._

_"I was thinking of breakfast in bed." Hermione mumbled against his skin, just loud enough for Harry to hear. "And then maybe some food, later."_

_Harry laughed, the vibrations humming through his chest and buzzing against Hermione's lips. "That was truly terrible, Hermione."_

_Harry laughed, and Hermione was a goner._

* * *

Harry slips into the house through an unlocked window on the first floor. He can hear quiet footsteps on above his head, and the click of surefire hands loading a gun.

He isn't one for guns himself, preferring the far more untraceable method of knives and a chance of a quick snap of the neck. It is rather poetic that Hermione would favor the brutal efficiency and quickness of a firearm. Harry had respected that same efficiency, once upon a time. He'd liked the ways that Hermione would get things done, the sheer force of her will enough to get others to follow her lead. It was endearing, when Hermione would go toe to toe with someone to get what she wanted. Even if it was something as stupid as getting off on a parking ticket from running a meter to zero.

It's strange how easy it is for Harry to imagine Hermione with a gun in her hands.

Hermione makes the first move, coming out from cover with full forces. Harry barely managed to not-so-swiftly dive into the living room before bullets lodged into the wooden paneled floors. Harry allows himself a moment of irritation; it had taken two weeks to lay the floor down in the entry hall by hand and Hermione knew it. And now it was tainted with bullet holes.

It's a game of cat and mouse through the rooms of their house, the both of them tearing through the house like hurricanes. Hermione has Harry outgunned, but that doesn't mean anything in a house full of blind corners. Still, Harry has to throw himself to the ground to avoid spray from a semi-automatic when Hermione listens for his steps through the walls.

"You need to work on your aim, Hermione." Harry calls, half goading, half buying himself time as he slipped around the kitchen island. He slips his hand into the back of the cupboards, feeling for the shock bang grenade he had stowed behind the crockpot they never used.

"Noted!" Hermione yelled back, an edge in her voice and Harry worries that Hermione is wounded for a brief second. Harry grits his teeth and crushes those nagging thoughts, and focuses instead on getting out of thid. Hermione isn't his wife anymore, she's the enemy—it was a habit, that was all, one he needed to break quickly if he wanted to survive. Just because he thought it was real doesn't mean Hermione ever felt the same.

He throws the grenade.

* * *

_The sex was phenomenal._

_Before Hermione, Harry preferred solitude and the quiet satisfaction of doing his job interspersed with a few indiscretions in far flung cities. The longest he had ever been with a single person before Hermione had been Ginny, and a hazy summer in the Congo on loan to a warlord. And hadn't that ended well?_

_But Hermione was different. Hermione had a singular intensity in bed, an attention to detail that would leave Harry wrung out and exhausted for hours just trying to keep up. And while he was no stranger to desperate sex, Hermione stood out. She was intoxicating, somehow drawing Harry in deeper and deeper until, after a mere two weeks, Harry found himself agreeing to visit Paris._

_And then another trip._

_And then a one year anniversary followed._

_And then a marriage proposal sealed it._

_"It's a good cover." Ron had grunted when he'd mentioned it. "It'd be less of a drain on resources. If she becomes a problem, kill her."_

_And that's all the stoic killer had said on the subject._

_Luna was far more concerned._

_"Marriage?" she asked incredulously, dragging her noise canceling headphones off of her head and around her neck. The gun range buzzer blared, signaling a ten minute ceasefire. "Are you fucking with me right now?"_

_"No." Harry said, succinctly. He placed his gun down as well, unloading it and setting his untouched box of ammo aside._

_"I thought you said never again, after Ginny?" Luna pressed. "Didn't you say some stupid shit like 'love is weakness' to all the new recruits? I remember it, you said it fucking often enough."_

_"Hermione isn't part of a mission. She isn't a distraction from an objective, or an asset." Harry said, a muscle working in his jaw. "She's a doctor who works long hours and presents at medical conferences all over the country-"_

_"So she's boring."_

_"She's safe." Harry stressed. "You cannot tell me that, given the ability to choose, you would not choose safe every time."_

_Luna swallowed her retort. "Yeah." she muttered. "I get it."_

_"Good." Harry said. "Because your aim needs some work, recruit."_

* * *

Hermione sees the grenade barely in time for her to get a hand up; she's dazed, but not blinded, which is the only thing that keeps her from dying with a slit throat. Her guns drop to a clatter on the dining room floor.

They are brutal towards one another. Harry smashes Hermione's face against the wall, breaking her nose and smearing bright blood against the white walls, and Hermione retaliates by slamming her fist into Harry's jaw so hard it knocks him sliding on and eventually off the dining room table.

The tablecloth skews, sending decorative place settings smashing to the floor along with shitty cutlery Harry had hated anyway. It's enough of a distraction to allow Harry to get back his defense just in time to see Hermione lunging at him with a steak knife.

Harry catches Hermione around the gut with a kick that sends her head cracking into a bookshelf. She barely manages to duck out of the way before Harry puts his foot through the drywall where Hermione's head had been.

Hermione's heart sinks. Harry is better than her. Better trained, stronger, faster— and more mentally prepared. Harry's face is set, the stoic mask Hermione had only ever seen directed at people who'd earned her husband's anger, but never at her.

Harry takes his mind off the betrayal by fracturing one of Hermione's ribs and sending her staggering backwards. Her feet slip on the carpeting and she goes crashing to the floor, almost on top of her discarded pistol. It digs into her injured side, causing the room to spin, but there's smug triumph when she closes her fingers around the grip, and pushes herself to her feet.

Hermione whips around, pistol extended, only to find herself face to face with Harry, holding his discarded semi-automatic and breathing hard.

"Well?" Hermione demanded. "Aren't you going to finish it?"

"Are you?" Harry asked, quietly, voice filled with accusations.

"You don't get to ask me that question." Hermione said. She cleared her throat, swallowing hard—telltale signs that Hermione was fighting back tears.

If Harry's heart wasn't a shattered, hard, congealing mess, perhaps he could find it within himself to care.

He would kill Hermione, and he would be fine.

_Love is weakness. Love is weakness. Love is weakness._

He needs that mantra, because right now, pointing a gun at Hermione is the hardest thing he has ever done.

"I just need to know." The gun in Hermione's hand doesn't shake or tremble (Harry imagines she was trained too well for that), but there is something of a shiver in her body and her words.

"I just need to—did you ever love me?" Hermione said roughly. "Or was this all just-just another—another mission—another notch-" her voice broke. "I can't do this. I can't-" The pistol Hermione had held outstretched and still dropped to her side, and then fell to the floor from her lax fingers.

"No." Harry hissed, stepping forward to fist his hand into the collar of Hermione's shirt. He pressed the muzzle of the gun into the soft flesh beneath Hermione's ribs.

"You don't get to make me the bad guy here. You don't-" He shook Hermione. "Pick up the gun, Hermione. Pick it up!"

Hermione shook her head. "No. I will not."

"Why?" Harry demanded, his voice breaking. "Why couldn't you just-"

Hermione steps close and kisses him instead. Despite the blood on his face, the gun under his chin- he leans forward and kisses his wife like it's the last time.

The gun hit the floor with a thump, and Harry's hand curls around the nape of her neck. It's familiar and foreign and it'd been way too long since they'd done this. He pushes forward, deepening the intensity of his mouth against Hermione's. Hermione makes a sound deep in her throat, one that Harry hadn't heard since the second year of their marriage and he can feel it going straight between his legs.

They pull away from each other with a gasp, their hands fumbling at each other's clothes. Harry bats Hermione's hand away from his shirt buttons. His hand brushes against Hermione's bruised ribs, and instead of shying away, Hermione presses closer.

This makes Harry feel more alive than he has in months.

He backs Hermione up against the foyer wall, unzipping Hermione's pants and dragging them down with her as he drops to his knees. The glass from the window digs into his knees, but he's pressing his nose into the skin above Hermione's clit, hitching a long leg over his shoulder and he doesn't care.

It's a heady feeling, and he can honestly say he's felt nothing like it.

* * *

"I did not set out to seduce and marry you." Harry murmurs in the dark of their room, tangled in their bed that had been half-empty for one reason or another for far too long. "You were… not the plan."

"I rarely am." Hermione chuckled, but propped herself up on her elbow to look at Harry dead-on. "I love you, you know."

"I do know." Harry said, turning and wrapping his arm around Hermione's warm waist and burying his nose in her neck. "You give it away when you look at me. It's partly why I never suspected you; you wear your emotions on your face like an open book."

"Hey, I am in fact, great at my job!" Hermione said, pinching Harry's bare shoulder. "And you could just say 'I love you, too' like a normal person."

"I love you, too." Harry said, eyes drifting shut. "Until then, we should sleep- I have been up for about 48 hours-"

Hermione's phone rings instead.

"It's Theo." Hermione said, her voice losing it's sleepy quality and honing to that razor's edge Harry had become so familiar with these past few days. "Fuck."

"Hermione?" Theo's Knott's voice echoes abruptly through the speakerphone. The reason that Harry has never met Hermione's best friend in person is now suddenly much more obvious. "You have a problem."

Harry slips out of Hermione's arms and starts getting dressed while Hermione talks. He has a feeling they won't have the time to stick around for a second honeymoon.

"The ministry, the- they know, about you and Harry. You were set up." He cleared his throat awkwardly. "They wanted you to take each other out. Is he, uh-"

"I am alive and well, thank you." Harry said, rolling his eyes.

"That's good, I guess." Theo said. "I called you as soon as I found out; they've got boots on the ground coming for you guys. If you split up, you might have a chance-"

"Not an option." Hermione said, glaring at Harry as if daring him to argue.

"Hermione-!"

"Bye, Theo." Hermione hung up.

"We are not splitting up." She said again.

"I did not suggest it." Harry said.

If he has to die, he wants to die with Hermione. He couldn't offer that same consolation with Ginny, who'd died alone and afraid because Harry was too weak to go against his those above him. Of all Harry's faults, one could not say he did not learn from his mistakes. "The world is a huge place."

Hermione swung her legs over the side of their bed, leaning to Harry's side to press a kiss against the corner of his mouth. Harry can feel Hermione's wedding ring pressed flush against his hip.

Hermione smiles. "So let's go get lost in it then."

* * *

fin.

**Author's Note:**

> this was this weeks harmony discord wacky au prompt. I hope you enjoyed. feel free to leave a review :)


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